Niki Anderson ~ Author & Speaker

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While preparing tax data for my accountant this week, I took a break from the computer and committed to finishing the unsavory job. My interlude was not without concern for readers waiting perhaps for the next blog on lifestyle balance.

An accusation crossed my mind. Like other authors, I ought to be blogging more. Emphasis on the word “ought.”

Momentarily, I fell prey to the very frustration I’m disarming in my blog today. It’s number three among the eight rebuttals we hear from people striving to balance their lives. “I ought to be able to do as much as others do.” Sound familiar?

Interestingly, a few days ago a dear friend said something similar. “When I see all you’re doing, I think I should be doing more.” While she was comparing her “much” to my “much,” I was measuring myself by fellow writers for their more frequent blogs. And you can bet my “fellow authors” often cast side glances at someone doing one thing or another more than they.

Whew! The picture wears me out just verbalizing it. The nasty cycle is a whirl of comparison, competition, and copycat-ing.

If you allow the three C’s past your doorstep and in your house, you’ll be inviting three thieves. They’ll rob you of balance by distracting your concentration from what God has directed only you to do (be it ever so humble as taxes!).

Comparison will sink your esteem, forever pointing to someone you greatly admire. Competition will nurture jealousy with its assurances that you’ll never be equal to your role model. Copycat-ing will rob you of personal development and blind you to your own marvelous distinction. Suddenly you’re off kilter and there goes balance.

“What others are doing” is their business whether it’s superior, less, or merely different from what life requires of you.

Balance demands the deliberation of focus. Don’t let your eyes or attention turn you aside to “what others are doing.” Stick to your own tasks and do them joyfully to the glory of God. Besides, originals have more fun than copycats.

Anyone care to share which of the three C’s you’ve overcome or hope to? I’m giving a copy of Ins-pur-r-rational Stories for Cat Lovers to the third confessor who comments. Click the “comments” to the right of the copycats pictured above.  

Comparison is futile. No amount of admiration will ever turn a train into an airplane. Keep your eyes on the track ahead. You may never fly, but you’ll never derail. --NA

       I didn’t grow up with horses but I know the sound of hoof beats. Many a stampede has charged my way and left me trampled.

       “But you’re still alive!” you say. True. Painful recoveries are enough incentive to figure out how to avoid the advance of unrelenting demands galloping toward me like a hundred stallions.

       While striving for balance, I’ve made cuts in my schedule, yet heard myself still whimpering. “I do only what’s necessary but I’m still overrun!” My refrain may also be yours. It’s the second in a list of eight complaints we utter as we work toward balance.

       Things I deem necessary are basic responsibilities related to each day. Eat, groom, pray, work, meet, exercise, sleep, serve, parent, and care-give are a sampling. Though decisive in my resolve to avoid overload, even the seemingly necessary can leave me breathing puffs of hoof dust.

       Long ago, with pious outlook I’d tell myself, “It’s all necessary.” Victimized, I’d surrender to every call, eventually applaud myself for my discipline, and give a martyr’s testimony. “It was all for the Lord.” Did I leave off the part about my racing footsteps and adrenaline-powered emotions?

       Work as I do to live balanced, the thunder of hoof beats is seldom far away. But I’ve grown. Now I recognize the heavy rhythm of hoofs; I smell the sweat of the stampede; I’ve learned the way of escape. For starters, I move from the pathway.

       Not only stepping aside, I step up. Into a grandstand where God and I survey the stallions of responsibility that were hard at my heels. I look them over perhaps for a second or third time as the day progresses and as the hope of completing “the necessary” is slipping away.

       Life is not a steeplechase. I need a moderate pace and Spirit-advised choices among the tasks before me. Definitions for variations of the word necessary don’t help. The words necessary, obligatory, mandatory, and compulsory carry so closely the same meaning, it’s like splitting hairs to define their differences. So how do I choose?

       Jesus clarified what’s necessary when he spoke of the guideline that marked his life. “…whatever the Father does, the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does.” John 5:19-20

       From the grandstand, we perceive what the Father is doing, and as sons, we choose to do as He does. If we watch the Father with our spiritual eyes and follow behind as He leads, by day-end, we’ll realize what was divinely necessary and what can happen tomorrow, or the next, or beyond.

       God knows we’ll seldom complete all we expect of ourselves. If we believe He is sovereign over time, we’ll peacefully resign to the limit it places on the fulfillment of our own to-do lists, and we’ll discover peace and delight in completing his.

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” Proverbs 19:21 NIV

copyright 2010, Niki Anderson, request permission for reprint

“But I’ve already cut out

a lot of things!”

       It’s the plaintive cry of the over-committed—those dismayed by the load they carry. I’ve heard the refrain from my own mouth when I’ve slipped into a season of self-imposed demands.

       In last week’s blog I promised to address this first of eight frustrations expressed by those struggling to slim down a weighty schedule.

       There’s a solution. And some solutions, like this one, leave no room for flexibility. The answer to the dilemma comes from a stubborn advisor with a single piece of advice. Wisdom folds his arms, looks us squarely in the eyes and says, “Narrow your playing field—like it or not.”

       One year amid too many roles, I took his advice. I found a replacement for my quarterly college position, and I didn’t renew membership in a professional organization or in a hobby club I loved.

       Like me, few of us need a counselor to corner the culprit that’s usurping time. In 15 minutes of honest scrutiny, most people can pinpoint what commitments drain their energy and hours. If you’ve “already cut out a lot,” keep cutting. Drop the surplus—like it or not.

       “So,” you plead, “how do I decide what to strip from crowded days?” Examine your expectations, routines, and calendar. Retain commitments God has assigned for that season of your life; cut lose from electives that impinge upon primary involvements.  

       February arrives with heart-shaped necklaces from jewelers and chocolate ads from confectioners. But a love admonition from the heart of God endures all year long. “Love your neighbor as (you love) yourself.”

       “Love myself?” Self-effacing, servant-minded people question even a hint at this suggestion. Niggling at the mind is the dark thought that the less we do, the less God loves us.

       But why would God cherish us more for frenetic juggling of committees, hobbies and services? Is he desperate for helpers? Will his eternal plan fail if we withdraw our membership, cancel a trip, or tell someone, “No, I’m sorry I can’t”? Loving yourself has a distinct look. It’s the person who’s lightening the load in appropriate self-love.

       Wrapping our minds around the fact of God’s love inspires the confidence to reduce the excessive busy-ness that tips our balance in dis-favor of peace, joy, and effectiveness. Though you’ve “already cut out a lot,” keep slashing—like it or not.

       The consolations abound. The margin of time you create allows for divine intrusions on our schedules we could never have expected and wouldn’t want to miss--opportunities to help, invitations to accept, ideas to pursue, rest breaks to enjoy, or the luxury to catch-up on work or play. Margin offers the sweet gift of discretionary time.

       Ask God to temper your zeal with his wisdom. You'll like it, more than not.

“It is not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way.”  Proverbs 19:2 NIV

February site content: On the MEOW-cellaneous page are pictures of your cats; On the About Cats page is info and news: “The Cats of Venice” and “Stickers that Save Your Cat’s Life.”

Where I'm speaking: Waterford on south hill, 2929 S. Waterford Dr. (one block south of 29th Ave.) in the lobby at 2:00 pm on Monday, Feb. 8.

Harvard Park Retirement Residence, 3616 E. 30th Ave. at 3:30 pm on Wed., Feb. 10.

Cat Art: French impressionist, Auguste-Pierre Renoir, painted “Woman with a Cat” in 1875. I own a cherished print from a big-box-store which hangs in my living room. The cat looks remarkably like Claw-dia, our Maine Coon, and the woman resembles my daughter. Even others have noticed. How fun is that?

Copyright 2010, Niki Anderson; request permission

After 10 months of blogging once monthly on topics ranging from “Reality Book Signings” to “Plucking Peaches,” I’m yearning to share with you my pursuit of God-centered balance.

       Always confronting my own imbalance as I manage the bits and chunks of life, in coming blogs I’ll share solutions I’ve proved reliable. Like recognizing where I’m headed.

       At Christmas I gave my son and daughter-in-law the gift of 10 ethnic dinners. This month, we rendezvous to France via Boeuf Bourguignon, Provencal side dishes, Perrier, and bread, followed by a dessert of poached pears and chocolate sauce that would make Julia Child proud. Did I mention? I'm the cook!

       If that’s not enough, my resistance to mediocrity insisted I offer background music from Maurice Chevalier, buy my husband a beret, and seat my guests at a café table, and….and…and.

       Check! I realized where my enthusiasm was headed. Just how much time did I have for this soirée? Researching for recipes and conducting taste-trials were a sensible limit.

       I recovered my balance by returning where I started—in the kitchen with the beef and the pears and the original plan to host only an authentic meal.

       A survey by national teacher and author, Beth Moore, reveals that the sticky-wicket of balance persists as one among the top challenges for women. Facing the truth of lifestyle imbalance causes guilt, frustration, and even stagnation. How do we get beyond that trio of defeat?

       Balance is NOT a little of this and a little of that, with not too much of anything focused in only one place. Balance IS a sufficient amount of emphasis in a variety of the places where God has you assigned for the season.

       Balance your life. Caveat for the fervent; reduce your overload or fall under its weight. Caution for the fearful; increase your load or fall short of life’s best.

       If you hear the beckoning call to balance, stay with me this year as we lessen our teetering on the balance beam of life and even gain some grace while walking it.

       In my next post, we’ll answer the frustrations of the overloaded. Below are eight common replies from those struggling to shrink their commitments.

       In following posts, we’ll discuss the fears of the UN-committed. In the meantime, decide where you identify in the list below, and tune in for the next blog. I'll address each objection quoted.

“But I’ve already cut out a lot of things!”

“I do nothing unnecessary yet I’m still overrun!”

“I ought to be able to do as much as I see others doing.”

“My organizations expect its members to participate?”

“If I bypass opportunities in business or ministry, I’m a fool!”

“Despite my exhaustion, I enjoy all my activities!”

“My church always needs more volunteers.”

“My family depends on me; I can’t let them down.”

February site content: MEOW-cellaneous page with pictures of your cats. About Cats page – “The Cats of Venice” and “Stickers that Save Your Cat’s Life.”

Where I'm speaking: Waterford on south hill, 2929 S. Waterford Dr. (one block south of 29th Ave.) in the lobby at 2:00 pm on Monday, Feb. 8.

Harvard Park Retirement Residence, 3616 E. 30th Ave. at 3:30 pm on Wed., Feb. 10.

Cat Art: French impressionist, Auguste-Pierre Renoir, painted “Woman with a Cat” in 1875. I own a cherished print from a big-box-store which hangs in my living room. The cat looks remarkably like Claw-dia, our Maine Coon, and the woman resembles my daughter. Even others have noticed.

Copyright 2010, Niki Anderson; request permission

     Among my treasured collectibles is a small autograph book from the 1930s. The sentiments are penned with ink from a well and signed by those as far away as Cornwall. Many are poems, likely drawn from memory. Some are moralistic, and all are thoughtful. A few prompt a smile but most are serious musings, love rhymes, and good wishes.

       Last week, I picked up the coverless book and reread some entries. Each is dated and ends with a graceful signature. Two are titled. One is named “Eternity” and the one below is called “Life.” With a new year ahead, this inscription snagged my attention.

Life is a book in volumes three,

The past, the present, the yet-to-be.

The first is finished and laid away.

The second is with us every day.

But the third and the last of volumes three,

Is locked from our sight and

God keeps the key.

B. Sowell

St. Keverne, Cornwall

       Like an author, I love this concept of life as three books. One past, one present, one “locked from our sight.”

       Book one. The past—pleasingly memorable or painfully regrettable. Much like the occasional volume I wish I hadn’t read or the novel I’ll cherish always.

       Book two. The present. That which “is with us every day.” The pages of now. The present volume is our most valuable asset. Realizing that years ago, I crafted my mission statement to include five of its ten words about the present: “To love and serve God, one day at a time.” The Psalmist also emphasized the present. “This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” The present is the most influential of all three books. It constitutes my past and is yesterday’s future.

       Book three. The future. Other than necessary planning, I don’t pry into an imaginary future. I speculate, yes, and sometimes I fret. Though curious, I’m grateful the future is sealed. Its gladness and sadness remain a mystery. I’m spared fear of its troubles and reserved clueless to its pleasant surprises. Though “yet-to-be,” it could be the best book yet, and wisely saved for the end.

       All three volumes rest on our shelves. If I could sign your autograph book this first day of 2010, I’d wish you the best volume three of your life—one day at a time.

Here and now are the coordinates for living in the moment with God. What is the hardest thing for you at the start of every day?